


Locker 1075

by my_inked_asterism



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Lydia-centric, POV Lydia, Season/Series 06, and hears his voice, because she misses hubby basically, lydia keeps dreaming of stiles, unspoken connection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8859691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_inked_asterism/pseuds/my_inked_asterism
Summary: " Lydia had felt that touch on her cheeks, stroking her face gently, sliding on her hair with such fondness she starts doubting it had actually happened all in her head only. And that voice… she had heard a voice calling her name. It was so desperate and broken, holding so much hope and sadness at the same time as if it was trying to bring her back to it.From what, she isn't sure yet.   “Lydia. Lydia!” Her mother calls her louder this time, “God, honey is everything alright?”She shakes her head in confusion and focus back on the woman, “I-- mom, did someone come over while i was asleep?”  “No, honey of course not.” Then she analyzes Lydia’s expression once more and repeats, “Are you okay?”  Lydia shuts her eyes before answering, the feeling of heat still on her face. When she opens them back to look at her mom she finds her staring quizzically, “Yeah. Yeah i’m fine, i just had a weird dream.”  “A nightmare?”“No,” Lydia replies immediately, finding herself smiling at the memory of it, “Not really, it was just… strange.”  "





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had written this drabble a while ago and i was planning to keep it for me but now i feel emotional enough to post it and start _another_ hiatus in the best way possible.
> 
> This is not a missing scene because i wouldn't know where to specifically collocate this but i definitely think Lydia could've felt this way at the very beginning of Stiles' absence.
> 
> Enjoy this desperate attempt of mine to wreck your hearts and please comment below with your thoughts about the story or leave kudos if you liked it!
> 
> I'm lydias-martin on tumblr

The parking lot is almost completely full at 8 am, when Lydia arrives to the back of the school in order to find a little space for her shiny blue Toyota. She proceeds slow when she finally glimpses Malia’s car and a free spot right next to it, her mind travels on what the werecoyote could’ve possibly done to keep it empty since it seems like the only one within one kilometre. Knowing Malia, she is aware her methods could be pretty… convincing.

Gathering her books, Lydia crosses the entrance hall of the school and follows the hallway in front of her, smiling absently for no reason.

 

(Or at least, she hadn't figured it out yet).

 

Her heart skips a beat when she suddenly spots Stiles resting against his locker on one side, his back turned on her direction so that she is able only to see the muscles of his wide shoulders twitching slightly as he gesticulates vigorously with his free hand. That’s when she notices he is talking (shouting) to the phone. Lydia suppresses a laugh at the sight of his spaz moves, maybe trying to point out something that she can tell is _clearly_ a lost battle.

The girl approaches quietly and he turns around all of sudden, surprising her a little as he does so; she hadn't called him or touched him at all.

He looks shocked as well but his eyes relaxes almost at once as they meet hers, his lips slowly turns into a soft smile to greet her, which causes her heart to clench slightly.

 

Why does it keep happening _every day_ , god?

 

She mouths an “hi” in response and smiles back at him as he keeps staring at her wordless.

“Ye- yeah dad, still here.” Stiles stutters at the phone and shakes his head, as if had just realized he is still holding the call, “Look, those papers… they were in the kitchen okay? It’s your fault, keep them safe next time.” He pauses. Then rolls his eyes at his dad’s reply, “No. No, I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I can pass by ton- okay okay, got it. Jeez…” After another pause in which Lydia clearly hears the Sheriff’s voice through the phone yelling obscenities at his son, they say goodbye to each other and Stiles finally hangs up with a stressed look on his face.

 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah fine. That man needs to chill sometimes though.”

He isn't really upset. He is complaining but, by hearing his tone, she can tell there isn't anything too serious going on, which makes her a little bit more relieved. “What is it about?”

He sighs, “I have not-so-accidentally read some paper works of my dad in which there were some pretty important information and found out a guy who’s been accused of being into drug issues might be attending our same school and-” he stops talking the moment he sees Lydia smirking playfully, “and I wasn't supposed to tell anyone.” He groans in frustration and passes one hand on his face, “my dad is gonna kill me.”

“Stiles, it’s fine,” she laughs now, unable to hold it anymore, “I promise, I won't tell okay?”

“Okay.” But he’s smiling too. “Good morning, by the way,” he adds softly.

She suddenly feels the urge of hugging him as tight as possible at the sound of his voice becoming so gentle, “Good morning.”

“What’s your first period today?”

“Uhm i’m gonna start with AP biology,” she glances at her phone, suddenly realizing the fact. As she had imagined, there are already two texts from Scott on her display. “I have to meet Scott in five,” she sighs while answering to her best friend, noticing he had just started writing in capital letters.

 

“Okay, see you at lunch?”

She winces, “I promised my mom to eat with her today. Sorry.”

“Don't worry.” He answers calmly, then adds, “we can meet after school and study for tomorrow’s math test then? I swear i’m clueless.”

Her frown turns immediately into a grin again, “Sure.” Somehow she suddenly feels light at the only fact that she’s gonna see him in the evening, “Your place?”

“Deal.”

“Okay then, see you later.”

“Don't forget about that.”

 

She smiles at him, “I won't.”

 

* * *

 

_“Lydia wake up. C’mon Lydia open your eyes…Lydia...”_

“Lydia!”

Lydia’s eyes open wide at the sound of such rush in her mother’s voice, so different from the one of her dream, causing her to jump slightly in her bed. The daylight floods into the room as Natalie opens abruptly the little window, a ray of sunshine crosses her cheek, warming her skin with its light.

Lydia reaches her face with a hand and gently caresses her cheek, she lets her fingertips pass through her jaw, her ear, up to her cheekbone. When she slips her hand down to her neck she feels her pulse pounding against her fingers, her heartbeat increasing forcefully as she does so and a weird, inexplicable shade of anguish suddenly overwhelms her. Something is missing, she feels empty all of sudden and frustrated at the same time because nothing but her beating seems to be unusual at the moment.

She misses the warmth on her skin. A warmth different from the sunlight, a warmth of someone’s skin on hers, a warmth that makes her feel alive even when she’s dead.

Lydia had felt that touch on her cheeks, stroking her face gently, sliding on her hair with such fondness she starts doubting it had actually happened all in her head only. And that voice… she had heard a voice calling her name. It was so desperate and _broken_ , holding so much hope and sadness at the same time as if it was trying to bring her back to it.

  
From what, she isn't sure yet.

 

“Lydia. Lydia!” Her mother calls her louder this time, “God, honey is everything alright?”

She shakes her head in confusion and focus back on the woman, “I-- mom, did someone come over while i was asleep?”

“No, honey of course not.” Then she analyzes Lydia’s expression once more and repeats, “Are you okay?”

Lydia shuts her eyes before answering, the feeling of heat still on her face. When she opens them back to look at her mom she finds her staring quizzically, “Yeah. Yeah i’m fine, i just had a weird dream.”

“A nightmare?”

 “No,” Lydia replies immediately, finding herself smiling at the memory of it, “Not really, it was just… strange.”  
“Don’t worry mom, i’m fine. I’m coming in a sec.”

Her mother seems to relax a little, a spark of relief visible in her eyes as she speaks again, “I’ll wait for you downstairs then,” and gets out.

The sense of melancholy gets only worse when Lydia is left alone.

Her eyes linger on her bare body when she’s dressing up in front of the high mirror in her room.  
The smooth skin covered in pretty and small freckles feels soft under her touch, as she scans her torso with her palm and suddenly closes her eyes when she reaches for her belly, knowing by heart the spots where the perfection has been wrecked long time ago.

There, two bright white gashes, visible on each of her sides, contrast with the ivory sea around them.

Her hand stops above the three thin cuts on her upper ribs, the ones that took her longer than the others to recover, not only physically. She brushes the long scar with her fingertips slowly, barely touching it as if she was afraid it could open again at any moment, afraid of seeing blood on her body once more despite the fact that she got used of that sight by now.

Suddenly, her mother’s voice calls her from the kitchen, “Lydia c’mon! LYDIA!”

 

_“LYDIA RUN!”_

 

Lydia stumbles, her hand pressed against the scar now.

_“Don't kill her. Please.”_

 

“I’m coming mom!” She manages to say through her panting.

Putting her dress up, she quickly applies some make up and meets her mom downstairs, before getting out of the house.

 

The taste of blood and tears still on her mouth.

* * *

 

“Thank you for keeping the parking free, you saved me.”

“Afraid of breaking the record of presences?” Malia asks smirking.

Lydia laughs ironically, “Oh, I think that’s been broken years ago to be honest,” she replies as they cross the main hallway together. If her IQ wasn't the highest of the whole school and her mom wasn't teaching in it, she seriously thinks she wouldn't be able to get through high school. But then again, she also deems that a crazy doctor who decides to take supernatural experiments on you by drilling a hole in your head can get to justify even one hundred absences.

“Right,” and she laughs with her. “Oh, good luck with your math test by the way!”

“Thank you.” She smiles at her, grateful.

They say goodbye before separating for the next period. Lydia heads to her locker to change books and rests in front of it for a while.

She feels that sensation again. The feeling of something important missing around her.

The aisle empties the moment the bell rings but her foot seem like sink into an invisible cement, unable to move away from the line of lockers.

There’s one of those, one single locker that nobody had dared to touch, that everyone had ignored … as if they couldn't even see it.

She walks to it, half unconscious of her own steps, as her legs move forward and stops abruptly in front of it.

 

1075.

 

That is the number. But there is nothing unusual in that simple box of metal, the reddish lock that is supposed to keep it private shows some remains of rust, due probably to the age, Lydia thinks. It looks old, which is strange but she still can't connect her feeling of lack to that fact.

Absently, she places her free hand on the cold panel, sliding it slowly down the iron as if it was a living thing.

 

_“You’re gonna forget me.”_

_“I won't! No, I won't, I won't.”_

 

She removes the hand and takes a step back immediately, hearing for the first time her own voice with the soft one she had dreamt of.  
She knows him, she talked to him.

Judging by the urge she heard in her tone, maybe she even loved him.

Without realizing, her knees hit the ground in front of the locker and books follow just a second after, falling right beside her. She crumbles down with no control on her own body anymore, mentally destroyed at the acknowledgement of the feeling, so deep and lost indeed in her heart and memories.

The love for someone she can't even remember the name nor the color of the eyes or the shape of his face… he seems so distant but close at the same time Lydia feels suddenly frustrated and angry, mad as she had never been in her life at herself.

 

God, it's like being in love with a _ghost_.

 

Then, there she stays, crying on the ground with her forehead leaned forward, almost touching the rusty material of the locker. Her tears of anger and sadness go down her cheeks as two streams after a flood, incapable of stopping.

 

_“I think you look really beautiful when you cry.”_

“Oh, shut up!” She cries at the nothing.

 

(The shadow of a smile appears on her lips anyway).

 

“Lydia?”

Suddenly, Scott is standing behind her, his big arm already folding her small body as he tries to understand the cause of such distress.

“Hey it’s okay, i’m here.” He whispers to her ear in a comforting voice.

“Why are you here?”

“I heard your heartbeat.” He answers simply -then again, there isn't so much to explain- “Why are you, instead?”

She swallows her tears back in her throat and pulls back reluctantly from his embrace in order to face him. There was a time she would've freaked out at the only idea of someone seeing her like this, broken and fragile, but that time has passed. She isn't ashamed of crying anymore, not now. Not with Scott. “I think-- I think this locker belongs to someone I cared about … a lot.”

Scott seems to acknowledge just now the presence of the little closet, narrowing his eyes as he checks it out quickly with a glance. Lydia stares at him, her eyes holding so much hope she feels her heart picking in her stomach now.

Then, something, some kind of epiphany, seems to strike Scott as a fireball. His look widens all of sudden as he gets to touch the iron, the interrogatory expression mixed with fear and panic crosses his face; and that’s when she realizes he knows too.

“We need to find him Scott.”

Her voice brings him back to reality. He nods energetically and after a while says,

 

“we will.”


End file.
